


Your Idiot

by mechanicalUniverses



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nail Polish, Non-Canon Relationship, Serenading, Some discussion of sexual content, cause its donut, i have no idea when this takes place, ive forgotten most of the rvb timeline, lopez is a big softy but he won't admit it, story time, with donut!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalUniverses/pseuds/mechanicalUniverses
Summary: Lopez acquires ten fake nails and a lapful of eager boyfriend.





	Your Idiot

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written rvb in so long good lord,, so sorry y'all omg

Lopez had no logical reason to be doing this.

There were a dozen other things he could be doing right now. He could be fixing the Warthog for the seventh time that week. He could be the one requesting for another supply drop, since these idiots would forget that he drinks oil for the sake of his functionality and not for a party trick. He could be plotting plan number 2083 of his revenge against the Sargeant.

But instead, he was sitting here with his being held hostage and getting fake nails glued to his metallic fingertips.

“—and so then I told him, ‘I don’t mind getting all down dirty on my knees!’ and then he got all weird and said I could keep them, and then he ran away!” Donut scoffed and tossed up the hand with the nail buffer in a gesture of offense. “Can you believe? Who wastes a good strawberry crop like that?”

“ _Sí. ¿Sabes cómo suenas cuando dices cosas así?_ ”

Donut winked at him and resumed buffing the final pinky nail. Lopez suspected that some wires in his neck may be crossed because he was suddenly getting a warning in his hud for a rapidly rising temperature. “Of course! It was a gentlemanly offer to a fellow farmer in need! It’s always the worst when you lose a good crop for no good reason. It’s lost money is what it is,” he continued wisely as if Lopez actually cared about the way things worked on a farm. Which he didn’t. His experience as a scarecrow had not been enlightening.

...Though Donut leaving little plates of banana bread he couldn’t eat was rather endearing.

Lopez is fairly certain he is the only one of the Reds and Blues (minus the dead Blue who turned out to be an AI) to have figured out that Donut’s innuendos and double-entendres were entirely on purpose. How could they not be? No man ever actually spoke like that. But, to give credit where it’s due, Donut was an excellent actor, and the Reds and Blues were all different breeds of dumbasses. Lopez was just a more critical audience.

“Okie-dokie, that’s all done! What colors do you want?” Donut swept his arm over a collection of tiny bottles filled with glittery, toxic-looking death that would take ages to scrape off of Lopez’s body if he was unfortunate enough to get it on him. Oddly, he wouldn’t mind if Donut were to help him if that happened. He doubted it would. When it came to things like this, Donut had the hands of a brain surgeon, steady, precise, and soft in spite of their lives. Donut had quite nice hands, actually.

Hadn’t he just been complaining a second ago?

Lopez hummed and refocused on the polish set before him. It didn’t go unnoticed that Donut had shades that were perfectly matched to the various armor sets settled in the canyon.

He must have taken too long because now Donut was leaning directly in the way of the bottles with a kind smile. “Want me to pick for you? I have one in mind that would go fabulously with your armor!”

“ _Mi armadura es marrón. ¿Qué podría ir con marrón?_ ”

“Don’t be silly!” Donut chided him. He snatches up a neon pink bottle and gives it a shake. “How about this? It’s a matte polish, so it won’t be all shiny in the sun and stuff. You don’t seem like a glittery type, which is a shame.”

“ _No me importa solo elige uno y haz lo que sea._ ”

“If you say so, grumpy-pants.” Donut playfully knocks his knee against Lopez’s, seemingly forgetting that Lopez is made of titanium alloys. “Ouch,” he mutters.

“ _Eres un idiota_ ,” Lopez told him.

“An idiot _you_ asked out,” Donut shot back with a coy smile. Lopez had absolutely nothing to say to that, so Donut opened the bottle, still smiling smugly, and took Lopez’s hand in his again. He talks as he worked in steady, quick strokes, warning Lopez to keep his fingers spread and not let the nails touch each other until they were a hundred percent dry, or he would ruin the coat and he would have start over.

Lopez definitely does not do it on purpose when Donut twists away to dunk the brush back into the bottle just to make Donut hold his hand a little bit longer.

Naturally, Donut did not get angry. Instead, he paused and blinked down at the sticky peaks that now rose up on the nails on Lopez’s middle and ring fingers. Then he cooed, “You’re such a goof. How’d you do that, mister?”

Lopez merely shrugged, unabashed. “ _Fue un accidente._ ”

Donut huffed fondly and picked up a cotton ball and a bottle of acetone. He quickly scrubs off the two nails, babbling all the while about some other story about some _scandalous_ thing Donut had seen Simmons doing that was, if the data he kept about Donut’s stories were anything to go by, only about 33.4% true.

“I didn’t know his arm still worked when it wasn’t attached to him!” Donut exclaimed. “But that opens up loads of new possibilities with Grif—”

“ _Por favor, no me hablen de la vida sexual de Grif y Simmons._ ” Lopez paused.

“Oh, come on Lopez, we’re both grown men!”

“ _Este es el mismo hombre que perdió su brazo durante dos días porque se arrastró cuando no estaba mirando._ ” Lopez recalled that day quite fondly. He had never seen Simmons in such a state of disarray. Grif had eventually discovered it one morning in his secret snack cabinet that he thinks no one knows about. The arm had thrown a bag of Doritos at Grif’s face as soon as he started screaming as if it knew its purpose even without its owner.

“Okay, true, but Grif did find it again, and he gave it back with a bag of his favorite snacks in its hand! That’s pretty romantic.”

 _“Sí. Encontrar el miembro perdido de tu pareja en un armario es muy romántico._ ”

“Oh stop, I know you like it when I hold your head.”

Their conversation dwindled away. Donut began to hum some ancient pop song that Lopez vaguely recognized only because Donut had complained about it being stuck in his head on numerous occasions. He has no idea what it’s called, though. If he did, he would play if only if meant that Donut would stop singing it to fill up any silence that happened.

“ _Lo estás cantando de nuevo_ ,” Lopez informed him.

“Am I?” Donut hummed. “Damn.”

He stopped. Lopez only had the chance to mourn the loss for a few seconds before Donut picks it back up again with a different song. Donut seemed to have an unlimited reserve of trashy songs, so Lopez really isn’t all that surprised.

He is surprised, however, that it’s a song from one of many old telenovelas Sarge had, for reason, filled his drive with.

“ _¿Cómo encontraste este?_ ”

“Hm?” A small jolt seemed to travel up Donut’s spine. “Oh, no!” he wailed. Lopez caught the hand with the dripping nailbrush just before it smeared onto his helmet and gently brought it down. “I wanted to surprise you! Darn me and my slippery tongue!”

The heat warning flashed to life again. Lopez dismissed it without hesitation. “ _¿Para mi? De verdad?_ ”

“Ugh!” Donut cried. “I’ll just have to serenade you with something else, I guess. But that one was so good…!

“ _Podría... borrarlo de mis bancos de memoria y pretender que nunca sucedió?_ ” The words blurted from his speaker without his permission. Rude.

Donut sniffed. “Really? You’d do that?”

Lopez didn’t want to push that hurt expression any further, so he just nodded. Donut gasped and threw his arms around Lopez, planting a kiss smack in the middle of his visor with a loud, _Mwah!_ “Aw, Lopez! You’re the best!” Donut exclaimed joyfully, rocking them back and forth slightly while the heat warning flashed to life _again_. Then he held him out at arm's length and gestured to the half-painted nails. “But let’s finish these up first, hm?”

So maybe Lopez didn’t have a reason to get his nails done. So maybe he could be fixing the Warthog, or ordering a supply drop, or plotting revenge.

Lopez now knew he’d rather be here than doing any of those things, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> for my lovely friend, mason! prompt by scribs on the rvb discord :^)  
> here's what lopez said (roughly, since everything he says is google translate asdfjsfd):  
> "Sí. ¿Sabes cómo suenas cuando dices cosas así?"—"Yes. Do you know what you sound like when you say things like that?"  
> "Mi armadura es marrón. ¿Qué podría ir con marrón?"—"My armor is brown. What could go with brown?"  
> "No me importa solo elige uno y haz lo que sea."—"It doesn't matter, just pick one and do whatever."  
> "Eres un idiota."—"You're an idiot."  
> "Fue un accidente."—"It was an accident."  
> "Por favor, no me hablen de la vida sexual de Grif y Simmons."—Please don't talk to me about Grif and Simmons' sex life."  
> "Este es el mismo hombre que perdió su brazo durante dos días porque se arrastró cuando no estaba mirando."—"This is the same man who lost his arm for two days because it crawled away from him when he wasn't looking."  
> "Sí. Encontrar el miembro perdido de tu pareja en un armario es muy romántico."—"Yes. Finding your partner's missing limb in a cupboard is so romantic."  
> "Lo estás cantando de nuevo."—"You're singing it again."  
> "¿Cómo encontraste este?"—"How did you find this one?"  
> "¿Para mi? De verdad?"—"For me? Really?"  
> "Podría... borrarlo de mis bancos de memoria y pretender que nunca sucedió?"—"I could... Erase it from my memory banks and pretend it never happened?"  
> any translation errors are due to google translate, but any other errors are on me!! thank you so much for reading, i hope you have a lovely day!!


End file.
